Now You Know
by Nicbearosaurus
Summary: "I'm the same kid I was when you thought I was straight. The only difference is now you know." Blaine comes home late and drunk one night and finds his father up waiting for him. The only problem is Leo Anderson doesn't know how to deal with his gay son.


Now You Know

**Summary**: "I'm the same kid I was when you thought I was straight. The only difference is now you know." Blaine comes home late and drunk one night and finds his father up waiting for him. The only problem is Leo Anderson doesn't know how to deal with his gay son.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Glee. I never will. Sadness.

**Warning**: I probably don't need this, but a warning for some mentions of underage drinking.

**A/N**: Just a short little story that came to me. It's not as angsty as my usual stuff, but I needed a break. No worries to any readers of Fallout this story did not get in the way much, the next chapter of Fallout will be posted tomorrow as per usual.

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><p>Blaine stifled a drunken chuckle as he quietly opened the door to his house and slipped inside, before kicking off his shoes haphazardly. He tiptoed through the foyer of his home and tried to sneak through the living room, only to hear a snort and a jolt from a lump sitting in his father's lazy boy recliner as said lump awoke from sleep.<p>

His amber eyes locked on his father's deep brown ones and both father and son stared at each other in silence for a long moment. "Hey Dad," he muttered suddenly with a shake of his head and making a mad dash to the stairs.

"Blaine, hold on a minute," he heard his father say in a quiet voice and he let out a groan, before turning around and marching back into the living room.

"Yes Dad?" He asked, wobbling slightly.

"Sit down," his father motioned to the couch opposite of him, "You look like you're about to fall over."

"Like you care," he mumbled under his breath, slumping into the couch morosely and sending a glare in his father's direction. He added in a more intelligible voice, "What do ya want?"

"Are you drunk?" His father asked immediately, his lips setting into a firm line.

"No," he lied belligerently.

"Yes you are," his father growled at him, "You were out getting drunk with that boy, weren't you?"

Blaine crossed his arms across his chest and looked away from his father, "He has a name. It's Kurt and he's my boyfriend and I love him."

"Alright, whatever," his father waved it off as if it didn't matter. He raised his head and looked at his father again and was surprised to see that the man looked like he was at a complete loss, "Blaine- I- I feel like we're complete strangers. The boy I knew would never get drunk-" there was a pause, "Please tell me you didn't drive home."

"Finn drove," Blaine explained in a quiet voice, blinking his eyes heavily, "Kurt's brother. Kurt's gonna get me tomorrow to pick up my car."

"Well at least you're still responsible enough for that," his father said with a small sigh, "When did you change so much?"

"_I_ didn't change Dad," Blaine growled angrily, somewhat ashamed to feel pinpricks of wetness finding the corners of his eyes, "I'm still the same kid Dad. I'm the same kid I was when you thought I was straight. The only difference is now you know. I guess if I'm gay I'm just not good enough for you, isn't that right?"

"I- no," his father stood and started pacing in front of the chair, "I never want you to think you're not good enough son. I just- I don't know how to deal with you." He ran a hand through the curls that were so much like Blaine's own, "Kids don't come with a handbook, you know? I thought I knew what I was getting myself into and then you threw the whole gay curveball at me and I'm still struggling to keep up."

Blaine looked away from his father again, getting frustrated with the welling tears that he couldn't stop from finding his eyes. He would not, could not, let them fall. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted. I'm sorry that I'm nothing like Joey. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he growled bitterly, thinking of his older brother; the 'perfect' straight university student currently acing his way through a law degree.

"I don't want you to be like Joey," his father shook his head and sat tentatively next to him. In turn Blaine shifted further down the couch away from him. "I want you to be you Blaine, but you- you kind of mystify me kid."

Blaine clenched his jaw, "Why are we talking anyway?"

"Because you came home drunk for the first time-"

"I'm not drunk," Blaine interrupted, still belligerent, but stopped at the disapproving look that was shot his way.

"-and I'm trying to figure out what to do with you," Leo finished in a quiet tone, "but the problem is, I'm not sure what. I can't be a father to a perfect stranger Blaine. We need to know each other, at least a little bit."

Blaine let out a bitter scoff, "You want to get to know me? No, you want to straighten me out. I'm not an idiot Dad. I know what that whole car thing was about. You can't make me straight-"

"I don't want to make you straight," Leo Anderson raised his voice slightly and immediately felt some self-loathing when Blaine flinched slightly. "Would it be easier if you were? Hell yes, but you're not Blaine. I know that and I – I – as hard as it is for me, I accept that about you. You like other boys and I know I can't do anything to change that. What I want to change is you and me, Blaine."

Blaine turned his head, swallowing as he looked at his father, "Oh yeah?"

"That car wasn't to straighten you out," Leo told his son in a soft voice, "I just thought it was something that might- I don't know- allow us to get to know each other again. I feel like I don't even know you. I feel like the moment you told me, that you changed."

"I'm still the same person," Blaine whispered and was slightly appalled when he could feel the pinpricks of wetness slip down his cheeks, "I'm the same Dad. Can't you just treat me the way you did before?"

"I tried, but-" the older man tried to put it into words, "It was like there was this mental block. I don't know son. Then- then you started pulling away and I didn't know how to get passed it. It was like you expected me to hate you and I didn't know how to deal with that."

"I kind of thought you did," Blaine let out in a quiet voice, shifting a little closer to his father, rather than farther, "You really don't?"

"You're my son Blaine," his father reminded him, "Of course I don't hate you. Gay or straight, close or not, you're still my child. You're still the tiny little boy that I brought home from the hospital seventeen years ago. There's nothing that could make me not love you, you need to know that."

"Dad," he let out the word softly and he found himself clasped in his father's embrace tightly, "I missed you."

"I missed you too kid," his father whispered to him in a soft voice, just holding him for a long moment. When Blaine finally pulled away, Leo added in a quiet voice, "We'll just have to work at the whole communication thing, okay?"

"Okay Dad."

"And," his father's voice lowered and got extremely serious, "No more getting drunk."

Blaine pursed his lips slightly, but had to smile just a little. At least his father was back to being a real father, "Fine."

"And you're grounded for a week," Leo told him, grinning slightly as he ruffled the boy's curls, "You can leave tomorrow to pick up your car, but you're going to come right back, understood?"

Blaine's belligerent drunkenness came back as he let out a less amused and much more grumbled, "Fine."

"Go to bed," Leo told his son fondly. The man watched his son wobble slightly as he stood, but manage to make his way up the stairs without a problem. With a small sigh he wandered to the kitchen and grabbed a pitcher of water and glass, along with a bottle of Tylenol. With that done, he followed his son up the stairs.

He was not surprised in the least to see his teenage son lying on his stomach on the un-made bed, still completely clothed and his head turned to one side emitting loud, drunken snores.

He poured a glass of water, leaving the pitcher and glass there, along with two Tylenol, before carefully lifting the blankets and drawing them up over his son. He also made sure to move the small garbage can next to Blaine's bed, just in case.

He turned to flick off the lights and heard a soft groan, "Dad?"

Leo turned back to see Blaine's eyes flicker blearily, "What is it Blaine?"

"Love you," he mumbled drunkenly, his eyes slipped closed again almost immediately afterward.

"I love you too son," Leo murmured quietly, exiting the room and closing the door behind him. He didn't know how much of this Blaine would remember tomorrow, but despite that he was glad they'd had the conversation.

He just wished the kid had been sober for it.

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><p><strong>AN**: Yeah so I tried to made Blaine drunk enough to be wobbly, but not too drunk to hold a conversation, even if it's less refined than what were used to hearing from our dapper Anderson boy. Anyway I hoped you like it. Please leave a review.


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